garden friends

I spotted him on the porch behind a trail of wet. He spotted me, too, I think. Or maybe, he was just spotted. Long eyes, pretty to look at. He was slow, very, slow. So slow in fact, we didn't even notice him move.

I sat there for awhile, taking photos of him. he moved, but not fast enough to affect the capture. Once provoked he'd curl up slightly, shrinking his size to almost half of what he was capable of. I was warned the lights might scare him. But, he wasn't going anywhere.

I'd never seen anything like him. I scooped him up, careful not to harm his soft body, placed him next to the tree at least six times his size. He chose to stay on the vessel. I went into the kitchen to find some leftovers. I handed him a cooked glazed carrot. He latched to it, like it were his last meal (and maybe it was; how would I know?), and we watched the orange shrink in size ever so slightly, much like his body had moments before. I think he liked the dirt and the succulent sweet of the vegetable more than the hard nailed wood, but I can't be sure. Perhaps he was long on his journey in search of a new home.

None the less, in the morning, both he and the carrot were gone.